WHEN THE EAGLE FLIES

A cauldron of simmering discontent 

lies beneath the brave face for society 

A stash of unbridled dark humour 

A cache of unrevealed displeasure 

Tailored gemstones that sparkle quietly 

lie behind the stoic steady gaze 

Almond orbs that look into your soul 

Perhaps freeze emotion or burn a hole 

Palms sweaty from fever and perspiration 

lie under fur gloves worn for winter 

Hands that tremble in anticipation 

Fingertips blue from warmth deprivation 

The naked truth about our inner selves 

lies beneath the attire suited for the moment 

Secrets cloaked in ribbons of couture 

The concealment of past for a better future 

It might have appeared to go unnoticed 

But when the eagle flies it sees far and wide 

Vision three hundred and sixty degrees 

Detailed scrutiny of the seven seas 

And fly with it the guarded secrets do 

Carried on tireless wings over distant lands 

Keeping all the cards close to its chest 

Till at long last its breath arrests

-  Wind beneath my Wings (Bette Midler)